My body is not a commodity
A kiss is not a currency
In too-familiar territory
Heavy feather of expectation
In all the natural world
We are enamoured by a species
Whose female decides
By right and reason
How exotic ~ a bird, frog or spider
For exercising will to allow or deny
Whose freedom to foster new life?
These warm grey days
Staccato rain, occasional
Blasts of wild west wind
Drop down the lee of the mountain
Resonating with inner barometer
Warm, still body
Turbulent thoughts, occasional
Gusts of the past kick up
Sting the eyes, dry the mouth
Waiting for a warm spring downpour
Persistent trill, soft beat of drum on skin
Melds with melancholy strings
A Symphony of meteorological sounds
Without and within
Once all disaster
Terror and misfortune
Evaporate
Into yesterday's news
Hope remains
Often locked inside
Bereft of seeing daylight
For to hold in one hand
Hurts far more than
A lifeline with frayed end
Donaghy’s Hill, Franklin Wild-Rivers National Park, Tasmania
Cogs turn, missed click
Metal teeth grind
Against the beat
Synergy of life abounds
All around us, and yet
Is out of reach
Degrees of connection
Warm my feet
Coincidence lurks on well-lit streets
Tingling of nose tells
Opportunity a pop up stall
Till its flimsy walls fall flat
No matter about that
Cool your toes in sparkling springs
Curl inside a woollen coat
Though novelty may cause a thrill
Normality a tonic for chills
From cool far-off glance of lands of never-will
Qu'est-ce qu'on attend pour être heureux?
What are you waiting for in order to be happy?
Decades of desolation
A moonscape remains
Drilling to heart of earth
Taking all man claims
Terror evacuates
Landscape starts to breathe
The mark of devastation
Healed by tiny seeds
Conditions just right
Warm humidity of desire
Moisture of overflowing tears
Still silence of time
Ticking by...
Nature is mother, sister
Lover, daughter-child
Harbouring life's wonders
For all hearts grown wild
How does one commune
With one who is loved
When there is no 'us'
Surely, the trees agree
To touching leaves
While twit, thrush and sparrow
Alight Cupid's arrow
Marsupials stare longingly
While chewing on yearnings
A copperhead rises high
To consider taste of thigh
How would one know
Which love is delight
Without venturing wild
Avoiding its bite!
I always knew
Deep down
The moment I let go
You'd come around
Does the universe have a mind
To cast these stars into the sky
To throw planets in the mix
A kaleidescope of astral pictures
Is the blackness a dark canvas
For the art of some collosal giant
Hiding in dust columns
Diving through black holes
Does it orchestrate our lives?
Is serendipity a sketch comedy?
For all the hundreds of opportunities
To meet you eye to eye
A tragic romantic comedy
Stimied by titan in the sky
Not by you, or I?
Years I have dwelt
Under earth
Tread over head
Magnetic anomaly
Compass bearing bend
Nights I have glowed
Channelling fury
Fire of echoes
Into soft light
For lantern show
Days I have lain
Wounded in pain
Watching seasons stroll by
Blossoms, fruit and leaves
Butterly arms surround
To soften, to sleep
Till axis shifts away
Leaning toward you
I am compass
I am moth
I am fruit
Sleep finds me now
Wishing and wanting
Dreams evade
The breadth of years
Laid waste
